


His Punishment

by The_Audacity



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29594694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Audacity/pseuds/The_Audacity
Summary: Caught supporting the wrong side during the war, Uryuu is imprisoned in Seireitei on serious charges of treachery after the final battle. Luckily, Ichigo believes in his innocence and advocates on his behalf. He will do anything to save his friend, even exacting a punishment with Renji’s help that affects them both in ways they could never imagine.
Relationships: Abarai Renji & Ishida Uryuu, Abarai Renji/Ishida Uryuu/Kurosaki Ichigo, Ishida Uryuu & Kurosaki Ichigo
Kudos: 3





	His Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> Theme song: “Black Mambo” by Glass Animals

Four days ago Uryuu took part in the most epic confrontation Soul Society has ever seen. He fought with honor and dignity, pride and courage. Even when the outcome looked bleak, he stuck with the cause and gave everything he had to see it through until the end. His mettle was tested and proven. Uryuu pulled through with no regrets.

Only problem is he fought for the wrong side.

Never mind that he has tried to explain over and over that he was working as a double-agent from the beginning. There could be no better role for him than acting as a mole on Soul Society’s behalf. Waiting for the perfect moment to use his position beside the mad Quincy leader, Uryuu had to play his part convincingly enough to fool everyone but himself. He couldn’t even risk telling Kurosaki.

But Uryuu is not a Shinigami. He is not one of their kind and as such cannot be trusted. Which is why he is currently locked in a secluded prison comfortably furnished to resemble a standard hotel room from the mortal world. It has skylights but no windows. Even if he wanted he couldn’t escape through one of them because the walls are shielded with bloodstone, among other materials that suppress power. Receiving three decent meals each day, running water, and even some books, Uryuu really isn’t suffering too much—despite having to wear the Shinigami shihakusho once again. That doesn’t mean he appreciates his rights being violated.

When Kyouraku had him shoved in here without hearing him out, he threw a fit to anyone who came close enough to listen. They told Uryuu he had to be patient and that his sentence was being deliberated. What gives them the right to deliberate when they refused to heed the bigger picture? Yes, as a Quincy he fought against Shinigami but he didn’t kill anyone. More importantly, he was the linchpin in his leader’s downfall.

Unfortunately, no one else is aware of that fact yet.

Sinking into a chair, he picks up the latest book he has been reading and resigns himself to his agitation. A knock on the door several minutes later has him putting it right back down. Uryuu stands as his visitor pushes open the door after the guards unlock it. Kurosaki walks in and the door is immediately shut and locked behind him.

“Kurosaki! You’re all right? What about Sado-kun and Inoue-san?”

“Yeah, everyone’s fine. They didn’t tell you?”

“No one has told me _anything_ ,” he grits. “They’re treating me like their prisoner, keeping me shut away in here.”

“Well, you are their prisoner, Ishida. You fought for the enemy.”

“I was a double-agent,” Uryuu snaps for the hundredth time. “I’ve tried explaining it but—”

“I know! I know that. Without you, we couldn’t have won. At least not without a lot more lives lost.” This admission cools some of Uryuu’s fire. At least enough to hear the rest of Kurosaki’s monologue. “I’ve been campaigning on your behalf day and night to have you released but they won’t let you off without some kind of penalty. Kyouraku says even though you helped out in the end, there’s no guarantee that wasn’t just because you figured your side was gonna lose anyway.”

“What!? How could he say that after everything we’ve done to help Seireitei?”

“They’re saying it was your choice to shack up with the enemy, no matter how things turned out, and they can’t just let you off scot-free.”

“I don’t believe this...”

“Let’s sit down,” Kurosaki gently suggests when Uryuu’s posture deflates because his worst nightmare is coming to life. They move to sit on the end of the bed. “Before you freak out, they’re not going to execute you. Everyone agreed that because you’re a mortal, and not directly under their jurisdiction as a soul, they don’t have the right to take your life.”

“Small mercies,” Uryuu sarcastically mutters, staring at his fists clenched over his knees. “What did they decide, then?”

“You sure you’re ready to hear it?

“Just rip off the band-aid, Kurosaki.”

“They _wanted_ to keep you imprisoned for the next three decades but I managed to talk them out of it. The council wasn’t happy about it, but...I suggested that a brief bout of torture would have a similar impact in a much shorter time frame.”

“T- _torture_!?”

Given how old these Shinigami tend to live, Uryuu can’t imagine the types of advanced torture practices they’ve come up with that humans have yet to dream of, much less make a reality. What if they hand him over to Kurotsuchi? There could be any number of horrific devices in that insane captain’s arsenal that would leave him irreparably changed but still alive. That is not even considering _kidou_ , which has countless mental and physical applications.

“Shit, you’re shaking,” Kurosaki observes. His arm settles comfortingly around Uryuu’s shoulders and pulls him close. “You’re assuming the worst, aren’t you? Do you really think I’d let them hurt you that bad?”

Lifting his face from the cradle of his trembling hands, Uryuu meets his friend’s eyes in open confusion.

“But you said—”

“Maybe that was the wrong term. I mean, it is meant to be unpleasant overall, but in reality you might enjoy it. Well, I like to think you will.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m going to enjoy being tortured? Have you lost your mind, Kurosaki?”

“I’m no good at clarifying these things but it’s not as awful as you’re thinking. You’ll see.” He sighs and lets Uryuu angrily shrug his arm off. Kurosaki pulls out a vial and offers it to him. “Here, drink this. It’s from the Fourth Division; it’ll make you feel better.”

Uryuu takes the tonic and swallows it in one shot, too distracted by other things to worry about something like this. The Fourth had been the ones to heal him after the battle in the first place. This may very well be follow-up medication.

He pushes to a stand and starts pacing around the room. The empty glass vial is dashed against the far wall with a snarl. Feeling like a caged animal, Uryuu knocks over a table just because. If they think for one second he’s going to take his punishment like a good little Quincy, those deplorable Shinigami have another thing coming. The second they open that door to drag him to the torture chamber, he is going to rally all his strength and. And...

His mind fuzzes over as the room swims. Uryuu sways in place, limbs weakening and vertigo shifting him sideways. Kurosaki catches him and holds tight. The last thing Uryuu sees before sliding into black is guilty brown eyes.

The prick of a needle in his deltoid muscle jolts Uryuu back to consciousness. He is still too groggy to move much, but he can make out a blurry orange shape on his left side. When blinking doesn’t clear his vision, Uryuu assumes he must have lost his glasses somehow. He is trying to remember why he fell asleep in the first place but a new stimulus diverts his thought process.

Soft material encircles his wrists. He glances up to confirm that his arms are tied to the headrest of the bed he is lying on. Shifting his legs requires more effort than usual, because those are restrained, as well. Just as he starts struggling in earnest, heart shuddering with mild fear, Uryuu hears a familiar voice.

“It’s okay, Ishida. You’re safe, but you probably shouldn’t move around too much.” Kurosaki comes into view holding an empty syringe. “Hanatarou told me the faster your heart beats, the stronger the effect of this medicine will be.”

“What? You doped me?” Speech is difficult but Uryuu forces the words through. “Then, that vial...”

“It was a sleeping tonic,” he guiltily admits as he sets the syringe on the bedside table. “I had to do it or you would have fought when I tried to strap you down.”

“Of course I would have fought you!” The outburst costs him. A faint burning sensation starts up under his skin, radiating down his arm and up his neck. Not painful, but definitely startling. “What did you inject me with?”

“The technical name of the chemical is too long to bother remembering. As for what it does...you should be starting to feel it now. I wasn’t really supposed to use it, but considering the circumstances I thought it was worth sneaking in. Luckily I bumped into Hanatarou on the way here.”

Uryuu lets his head fall to the pillow with a _whump._ Nothing is making the slightest bit of sense right now. The last thing he recalls is Kurosaki telling him he has to be tortured before he can be acquitted of alleged war crimes and returned to the mortal realm. How does that translate to being roped to a bed and smuggled weird drugs? If this is Uryuu’s punishment why is Kurosaki so calm about all of this? Actually, why is he here at all?

“We can’t spend all night answerin’ every little question,” gripes a third person from the periphery. The mystery man stomps towards them and peers down at Uryuu. “Let’s get the show on the road already.”

“Abarai!? What are you doing here?”

“Renji is here to help.” Since that statement only serves to exacerbate his bafflement, Kurosaki adds, “Like I said before, I’m no good at explaining but basically I’m going to be the one to ‘torture’ you, Ishida. They gave me a list of...‘methods’ to use and this was definitely the one that would be least traumatizing. Although I’m pretty sure it was only on the list because they never figured I’d pick it.”

“‘Cause Ichigo here doesn’t know the first thing about sexual torture. But he was wise enough to ask me to be his mentor. It’s not like I had anythin’ better to do. Besides, I don’t mind watchin’.”

“S-se— _What_?”

Uryuu can’t even repeat something so ridiculous. He keeps waiting for them to start laughing and declare it all an elaborate hoax. Kurosaki is watching him in obvious concern and Abarai just looks impatient. While all of these things are registering in his mind, something altogether different is making itself known in his body. What started as a flush of heat has hit his spine to become a tingling explosion of effervescent pleasure. Uryuu’s lungs work as the substance threatens to eclipse his anxiety. Each second that passes is another increment towards apathy. Or worse.

“That shit you shot him up with is startin’ to take,” Abarai mentions with a gesture towards Uryuu’s middle. “Someone’s lookin’ alive.”

This time lifting his head is much easier, the sleeping draught clearing his system as another type takes hold. Uryuu glances down the length of his body to see what both men are so interested in. On the way, he notices that he is naked under a thin beige sheet. Oh, and he’s also getting hard.

“What the _fuck_ , Kurosaki!?”

“Don’t worry, that part wears off after a few minutes,” he hastily says after tearing his eyes from the newly tented sheet. “The main purpose of the drug is to make things feel more enjoyable. Heightened.”

“It won’t keep you hard,” agrees Abarai as if he is very familiar with this particular serum. “Although it’ll make it a lot easier to keep _gettin’_ hard.”

Uryuu swallows and licks his lips. “This can’t be happening. This isn’t real.”

In response to that, Abarai reaches out to trail a finger up the outline of Uryuu’s erection. He arches off the bed with a startled yelp as a dozen shards of pleasure cut into him from his groin all the way to his skull. Uryuu’s breathing goes ragged and he starts to quiver from that single touch. He has never felt anything so seductively powerful. Suddenly he begins to understand how this might very well be considered a strange form of torture.

“Does it _feel_ real?”

“Don’t touch him yet, Renji,” rebukes Kurosaki, swatting the man’s hand away. “We have to wait or it’ll overwhelm him.”

“He was askin’ for it.”

“Why don’t you just go back to your chair and _instruct_ me like you said you would? Ishida is disturbed enough without you messing with him, too.”

“Che. I knew you were sweet on ‘im,” he bitches as he walks off to take a seat. “Just make sure you do as I say when the moment comes or it’ll all go to waste.”

By the time they finish bickering, Uryuu recovers enough to turn a glare on Kurosaki as he digs through a box on the side table. He holds up a clump of fluffy down feathers dyed red and tied into a little bundle. Turning to Uryuu, he pushes a knee into the mattress and leans in close to whisper something.

“I’ll go slow. Tell me if it doesn’t feel good, okay?”

Opening his mouth to launch a fierce tirade of unprecedented rage, Uryuu’s words are halted by the sensation of that fluttery implement trailing along the inside of his arm. His eyes roll back on a short moan as that salacious sizzling restarts, accompanied by a buzzing dizziness behind his temples. Kurosaki dusts the feathers slowly across fingertips, palm, wrist, inner elbow, collar bone, and throat. He repeats this on the other side in time.

“Kurosaki,” he finally manages to rasp. “This isn’t...torture.”

“Glad to hear it,” answers the man with a hint of a smile. “But this is only the beginning.”

The sheet slides down, light friction inciting some novel sensations of its own, and the feathers find fresh stomping grounds on the expanse of Uryuu’s torso. Kurosaki shows the slightest hesitation before removing the sheet fully and revealing Uryuu’s eager cock to his gaze. When the soft wand circles his belly button and skates south, Uryuu tenses. His restraints creak as he tugs in apprehension of those feathers on his most sensitive area. But Kurosaki shows mercy and avoids it in favor of following the long line of a leg.

Once nearly every available inch is caressed, Kurosaki drops the feather and goes back to the box for something new. It takes him longer to choose this time and he looks to Abarai for approval before bringing it over. It is a blue silk blindfold and Uryuu shakes his head at the sight. He knows blocking one sense will only strengthen the others. Kurosaki applies it anyway. His hands are gentle as they lift Uryuu’s head from the pillow, careful not to tangle his hair into the knot.

“Don’t do this, Kurosaki,” he asks once it is secured. “It’s not too late. Untie me and we can discuss things before we do something we can never take back.”

“I have to,” Kurosaki whispers regretfully just above his mouth. “If I don’t carry out the punishment, they’ll find another way to make you suffer. I would rather it be me doing this sort of thing than someone who doesn’t give a damn about you doing something worse.”

The sincere words strike a chord in Uryuu. He can see the logic and compassion in Kurosaki’s solution, but it doesn’t make this any less awkward and unsettling. Still, when Kurosaki shyly kisses him, Uryuu allows it. He parts his lips in resignation, sucking in a quick breath at the electric greeting of Kurosaki’s hot tongue. His hands frame Uryuu’s face to keep him in place and control the kiss. It is soon spiced with a dominant tinge and Uryuu wonders if this is Kurosaki’s passion peeking through.

One of his hands drifts lower, smoothing over Uryuu’s neck to pause at his chest. A calloused thumb drags languidly over his left nipple again and again until it stands at reddened attention. His low groan inspires Kurosaki to roughen the kiss until he is nipping at Uryuu’s swelling lower lip. He turns his head away from it to draw in heavy breaths as Kurosaki switches to the other nipple. The delicate lobe of an ear is immediately sucked into the wet heat of his mouth.

Sure enough, lacking vision serves to heighten his senses of touch, taste, and smell. Even this moderate combination of stimuli has Uryuu straddling the edge of orgasm before long. He is ready for it, _craves_ it to quench the fire blazing in his blood. His breath hitches and his back arches.

A frantic beeping sounds and Kurosaki jerks away as if Uryuu’s fire could spread to him next. He is promptly left panting and unfinished. Legs shifting restlessly, Uryuu cringes at the uncomfortable pressure in his balls.

“That was close, Ichigo. Gotta be more careful.”

“Shit,” he huffs, sounding shaken. “I got swept up in it.”

Wondering what the whole point of this exercise is if they’re just going to quit right at the last second, Uryuu hears shuffling and clinking, then footsteps approaching. Cold slams into him, forcing a shout.

“What is that? Take it off!”

“Sorry,” Kurosaki hisses in sympathy as Uryuu tries to dislodge the chilly article from the apex of his legs. “I-I can’t let you come yet. That’s part of it, Ishida.”

“Hence the sexual _torture_ ,” helpfully supplies Abarai with an amused lilt. “Take it off before he goes numb.”

“Oh, right.”

The offensively cool bag disappears and relief floods in. Although he is much further from bursting, Uryuu is still fully erect. He grits his teeth at the notion that this could be what he will have to deal with every time Kurosaki winds him up until he’s ready to blow. Which will be _frequently_ if his reactions so far are anything to go on.

Speaking of ‘blowing’, Kurosaki has already moved on to the next step in the series by licking at the head of his dick. Uryuu grunts at the disorienting switch from cold to hot.

“Take off the blindfold, Ichigo. Let ‘im watch you.”

The strip of silk lifts away and Uryuu immediately meets Kurosaki’s eyes. Far from the calm, collected facade he projected at the beginning, Kurosaki’s flustered appearance says volumes about how he is faring with all of this. The bright flush to his cheeks below half-lidded eyes is very fetching on him. He holds Uryuu’s gaze as he moves lower, lying on the bed between his open thighs. Transferring his attention to the straining cock in front of his face, he licks a wide stripe up the underside with emphasis on tickling the vein toward the top.

“ _Nnnh_ ,” he moans out a full, wavering breath because it feels so good his toes curl up. “Kurosaki, don’t! I’m still—”

That accusatory beeping sounds again. Kurosaki is prepared, but not with freezing doom. He snaps something tightly around Uryuu that makes it impossible for him to ejaculate, without detracting from the pleasure of what Kurosaki does with the tip of his tongue. It dips into the slit with the perfect amount of friction. Uryuu writhes. He can’t stop himself, tethered limbs be damned!

It only gets worse. Seeing Kurosaki greedily suck and lap at him while listening to the most obscene slurping noises sends Uryuu straight into a frenzy. Kurosaki keeps glancing up at him with mouth full and eyes heavy-lidded. He wraps his arms around Uryuu’s flexing thighs to lock him in place as he kicks it into yet another gear. Uryuu watches his entire length disappear between slick lips and Kurosaki’s eyes finally shut in concentration as he swallows the last inch. Feeling the back of his throat closing against him is the final straw.

Uryuu throws his head back and yells.

Still, Kurosaki doesn’t let up. If anything, he moves Uryuu faster in and out of scalding suction, his chin bumping gently into tightening balls on every slide. The wild toss of his head dislodges the pillow beneath and Uryuu grips the corners to ferociously rip it in half with a shriek of shredded fabric. Cotton spills out to dust his hair but he doesn’t really notice. Garbled fragments fly free of his throat amidst searing gasps and broken moans.

In a roiling sea of sensation, one thought breaks through the endless waves: Uryuu may not survive this with his sanity.

A different kind of alarm trills after many agonizing minutes of this. Kurosaki removes his mouth with an echoing _pop_ and backs off Uryuu, who whines and wantonly twitches his hips into the empty air. The filthy shame of it doesn’t even occur to him.

“That’s phase one,” announces Abarai. “You know what to do?”

“Yeah.” The gravelly sound of his voice shivers down Uryuu’s spine and triggers a plaintive moan. “I’m gonna let you come now, Ishida. Do you want that?”

“ _Yes_! Kurosaki, yes!”

At the desperate pitch in his tone, Kurosaki’s composure crumbles. He surges up to turn those amazing lingual skills toward kissing with an added layer of need that had been concealed before. Uryuu does his best to respond to it when all he wants is release _right now_ or he won’t survive. As though reading his thoughts, Kurosaki shoots a hand down to unclasp the device keeping him in sexual limbo.

It hits him like a supernova, all fire and force. It stings. It is the richest ecstasy he has ever known. Uryuu’s entire body quakes with it. He gulps in air and thinks he will surely pass out. Perhaps die. Part of him wouldn’t mind. The ravenous inferno within condenses into a lethargic lava, settling for now but tenaciously lingering.

He gradually falls back into himself as the high recedes. Kurosaki is wiping disheveled hair and dots of sweat from Uryuu’s face and regarding him with a depth of kindness usually reserved for victims of tragedy. The mess he splattered across his own stomach is already conspicuously cleaned. The pillow he gutted is gone. He kisses Uryuu’s cheek and backs away from the bed. Abarai is solemnly appraising Kurosaki with a raised eyebrow.

They return together after a moment and work to remove Uryuu’s bindings from limp limbs. He doesn’t even have the presence of mind to be glad about it yet. It doesn’t last, though. They gingerly turn him over to restrain his hands behind his back instead. Then he is propped against the headboard and secured to it with a loop around his chest. Kurosaki offers him a cup to drink from and Uryuu sips without question, surprised when it is only water. He swallows more.

A gag is inserted into his mouth with the hushed assurance that it is temporary.

Up to this moment, both Abarai and Kurosaki have been fully clothed in their standard black shihakusho while Uryuu has been utterly naked. Understandably, some confusion results when they both begin shedding their garments. Abarai stops when he is down to his hakama but Kurosaki removes every last scrap, revealing a healthy interest in proceedings. Proof that this lust isn’t one-sided. Uryuu drinks the sight of him in, against better judgment.

Kurosaki crawls onto the bed on hands and knees. Turning perpendicular from Uryuu, he lowers onto his elbows and spreads his legs further apart. Abarai comes up behind him and rubs a broad hand over one smooth side of his jutting rear. Eyes flaring as he comes to the obvious conclusion, Uryuu gasps as Abarai lowers his mouth to Kurosaki’s spread cheeks. He catches the flash of pink tongue before turning his gaze to see the reaction.

An agonized groan vibrates into the mattress. Possibly just as turned-on as Uryuu was, he comes from just the feeling of Abarai’s tongue flicking into him. The more experienced man reaches a hand down to rub over his twitching cock, milking the orgasm to make it last. Kurosaki’s body jerks twice before slumping in satiation. Low murmurs of praise precede Abarai’s return to duty. Uryuu’s desire washes over him once more.

“Get the fist outta your mouth and talk dirty to ‘im, Ichigo.”

As noted, Kurosaki had been biting down on a clenched hand to keep himself silent. He turns his head sideways and regards Uryuu with glossy eyes and gasping mouth. A dark whip of need cracks within him at the sight. Uryuu wants to be the one making the man go hazily pliant with pleasure like that. Shifting in place as his renewed erection pays ample attention, he bites into the rubbery gag to hold back a groan.

“You see what Renji’s doing to me? That’s what I’m gonna do to you, Ishida,” he heatedly tells him between deep breaths. “I’m gonna bend you over and slide my tongue over you. Nudge it inside. Then I’ll push my finger in.”

Kurosaki pauses his commentary to moan as Abarai demonstrates this technique. Uryuu sees it pushing smoothly in, engulfed up to the second knuckle. He pumps it in and out to make room for another. A thick dollop of lube is added to make it easier for a third finger to join. By now, Kurosaki is panting hard and not bothering to smother his sounds. Whether intentionally or not his hips have begun a subtle, rhythmic grind back onto those wriggling digits.

“Keep talkin’,” Abarai gruffly commands.

“Mmmh, I’ll take my time...opening you up, Ishida. I’ll make it _so good_. Aah...”

“Try harder, Ichigo.”

“You try doin’ this,” he agitatedly snaps, “With fingers up your ass. _Fuck_.”

He wants to tell them that Kurosaki really doesn’t need to say anything. Just watching them at it while Kurosaki comes undone is more than enough to get him excited. Especially when Abarai twists his wrist and shoves in with a wicked smirk. Kurosaki plants his face in the mattress to muffle a higher-pitched yell. He lifts his head with a snarl directed at Abarai.

“What?” he innocently asks. “Didn’t know your prostate was off-limits.”

The exchange lends righteous strength to Kurosaki, who turns back to Uryuu with a determined pinch to his brow. A small pulse of fluid slides down Uryuu’s erection under the weight of his erotic stare.

“Do you want me to show you how it feels, Ishida? When that little nub is rubbed, it’s the most intense feeling. Like all your erogenous areas tweaked at the same time. Should I touch you like that? Make you beg for me to push inside you?”

The thick gag muffles his enthusiastic hums in the affirmative. He wants it. Wants to know what kind of magic could send Kurosaki into this seductive alter ego, radiating sexual prowess as if channeling the spirit of a wild tiger. Uryuu draws his knees in close to his chest so Kurosaki won’t see how his lurid propositions entice him. The telltale throb in his groin is an overt foreshadowing. No alarm sounds yet, but he knows he is close. His urgent warnings through the gag go unheeded.

Abarai pulls his hand away with a wet noise and Ichigo moves without being told. He turns to lie on his back in front of Uryuu with his legs folded up by his sides. Everything is on lewd display. Kurosaki leans on his elbows to keep eye contact, threatening him not to look away for a second. Then Abarai sidles up holding what is unmistakably a medium-sized dildo. They’re going to make Uryuu watch him work it in.

He shakes his head and mumbles frantic dissent past the barrier but Abarai just smiles.

The tip slips in and Kurosaki bites his lip on a hitched breath. Uryuu chokes on his gasp to see it steadily disappearing, so graphically arousing that it makes him light-headed. It gets halfway through before he gives one more attempt at warning them, glancing at his leaking cock in emphasis. _Finally_ their alarm shrills to corroborate his distress. Abarai curses and snatches up the bag of ice water, throwing Uryuu’s guarding legs open and setting it in place.

Uryuu’s head hits the board behind him as his eyes squeeze shut. He will never get used to the shock of it. Suddenly Kurosaki is there, pulling out the gag and cradling his lolling head. A soft kiss helps revive him. The bag is removed soon and Uryuu sighs.

“Fucking sensor was late,” snorts Abarai.

“You tried to tell us, didn’t you?” Kurosaki murmurs along his jaw line. “Trying to be good for me, weren’t you, Ishida?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Kurosaki...”

He draws back to meet Uryuu’s gaze in an astounding show of emotion. Then Abarai finishes pushing in the dildo from behind and Kurosaki’s face contorts gorgeously in gratification as it fits in to the hilt. Uryuu loses his next breath in a rushed exhale as Kurosaki kisses him with abandon.

“You want to be good for me, Ishida?”

Glancing down at his own straining interest, Kurosaki asks with his eyes. Uryuu readily nods and licks his flushed lips. While Kurosaki pushes shakily to a stand, his mouth fills with saliva in anticipation of the taste. Kurosaki carefully cradles his head in one hand and braces against the wall with the other. A quick glance upward is as long as Uryuu waits before parting his lips and sucking him in.

“That’s...really hot,” mutters Abarai, observing from the side. “How does it feel, Ichigo?”

“Fucking... _amazing_. Ishida, your tongue...is a revelation. _Unnf_.”

“Who’d have thought the little Quincy knew how to give head?”

Before long, Kurosaki’s hips start pumping in short thrusts. He grits his teeth and rests his forehead against the wall. Uryuu groans around the rigid curve of him and relishes the ragged shudder it causes up Kurosaki’s spine. A strong twitch against his tongue encourages a mirrored reaction that has Uryuu tensing as he realizes this is accelerating his recovery.

But Kurosaki has already had enough. He pulls out and drops to his knees, squeezing a hand around himself to finish as he meets Uryuu’s gaping mouth for a sloppy kiss. Kurosaki’s fist dents the metal bars beside Uryuu’s shoulder as he spills onto the sheets between them. This vision is too enticing. The heartfelt words Kurosaki whispers next, too quietly for Abarai to overhear, are his complete undoing.

“Thank you, Uryuu.”

“K-Kurosaki!” he cries as clear liquid drips onto his aching balls. “ _Quickly_!”

Abarai gets there first. He clamps a hand around the base just in time and Uryuu turns his face away to hide his whimper. The same ring is clasped in place and Abarai steps back. Just as he starts to turn to walk back to the chair, Uryuu catches him setting a palm to the front of his hakama. He may act disaffected by all this, but in reality he is far from it.

“This thing is useless,” he scowls at the round silver device he picks up. Abarai crushes it in his palm and shoots Uryuu a meaningful look. “I’m relying on you to let us know.”

Nodding a bit reluctantly, Uryuu returns his attention to Kurosaki. He is staring at Uryuu’s body with a hungry cast to his features. The rope tethering him to the bed is ripped off, though his hands are left immobile. Kurosaki flings him to the mattress and hovers over him with an inscrutable expression. Grabbing something from the nearby box, he shows it to Uryuu. A thin white tube flaring into a cone at the end. Uryuu’s eyes widen when he understands.

“I can’t risk you coming during this next part, so this is extra insurance. Hold still: I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Uryuu shudders and winces as the silicon plug is very slowly guided in through the top of his erection. Once it is all the way in, the startling squeeze of displacement dulls to a minor discomfort. Uryuu pants as he swiftly recovers from the slight trauma, but Kurosaki is already rolling him over and yanking his hips into the air. His heart skips as he realizes what this means.

Not wasting any time on modesty, Kurosaki’s tongue swipes over his puckered hole with singular purpose. Since he has never done this before, he listens to quiet instructions from Abarai as he diligently works his way inside. Just like he promised, Kurosaki takes his time. Minutes pass with Uryuu wriggling at the feeling of just that thick muscle breeching him before the first finger is meticulously introduced. His legs are abruptly spread wider for easier access.

Vulnerability only emphasizes the devastating actions. A stuttering litany of frenetic noises is dimmed by the bed but still heard. He can feel their effect on Kurosaki’s labored breaths puffing hotly against pink flesh. Right when he thinks the pressure in his cock can’t possibly increase, Kurosaki brushes his prostate. And keeps lightly bumping the pad of his finger against it.

Uryuu doesn’t have the breath to scream like he wants to. He doesn’t have the will to open his eyes and dispel the kaleidoscope of blinding color behind them. The muscles sheathing his stomach clench and release, clench and release. A strain in his upper back tells him he is subconsciously struggling against the binds around his wrists, desperately needing to get a hand to his erection for release.

“Stop fighting,” Kurosaki harshly orders. “We’re only halfway there, so take a breath and pull it together, Ishida. Don’t you dare hurt yourself over this.”

That serves to soothe him marginally. At least to the degree that he isn’t about to dislocate his own shoulder. A short whine accompanies the unexpected loss of Kurosaki’s fingers. He rolls Uryuu over again and positions him closer to the top of the bed. He rests against a pillow between the headboard from the shoulder blades up, lower half easily curving down the mattress. Lifting a leg to stretch it gently up and to the side, he secures the ankle into the harness his wrist had occupied earlier. The other leg follows and Uryuu settles into the position with minimal difficulty. Kurosaki is quick to ask whether it is too much.

“No, it’s f-fine,” he shakily manages even as he blushes madly from the shameless position.

“I knew you’d be really flexible,” compliments Kurosaki with a warm tone. “You’re so sexy like this...”

He raises Uryuu’s hips to slip another pillow beneath. The subtle C-shaped contour of his spine allows the tip of his erection to jut into the shallow hollow of his belly button. The plug still snugly-fitted there massages teasingly with every single motion. It doesn’t help that Kurosaki dips down to lave delicately at the purpling area. He lets up when Uryuu moans a pitiful sound past a bitten lip.

Kurosaki steps off the bed as he wipes sweat from his eyes. Uryuu is dotted with perspiration, too, despite the room being fairly cool. He glances over to see how Abarai is handling this new development. The man has his hakama untied and is stroking himself with indolent slowness. His hair is down and drapes messily over his bare torso. Catching Uryuu staring, he winks and swipes a heavy thumb over the top of his dick.

Before Uryuu can think to say anything about it, Kurosaki returns with a long string of shiny black beads. They evenly ascend in size from the girth of a finger to something a little larger than a plum. He scoots back into the open V of Uryuu’s widespread legs and squirts lube over the first few beads. They enter him at a measured pace, agonizingly deliberate. Bead by bead, filling him up while Kurosaki watches him in rapt fixation. They draw near the end of the string an eternity later. Kurosaki hesitates to push several considerable spheres through since the last won a shallow grimace.

“More,” Uryuu huffs as his body adjusts to the stretch. Kurosaki’s pupils explode on the greedy demand. “I can take more.”

Kurosaki leans down to distract him with a kiss as he twists another globe inside. Then one more. All but the very last seated in a long, shifting helix of slippery beads. Uryuu wiggles on instinct and breaks the kiss to suck in an essential draught of air. The more he squirms, the more he _needs_ to squirm because the pleasure is instantly addictive. Kurosaki moans loudly at the sight of him all strung up and so horny he is mindlessly writhing despite knowing it will only make things worse.

He starts tugging the beads out one-by-one and if Uryuu thought they were fun going in...His hips thrash of their own accord. Kurosaki has to pin him down just to finish removing the cord. The last bead slips free and both of them take a moment to heave through the aftermath. Uryuu is seconds from pleading pathetically with the very last of his remaining reason. Never in his life has he endured such simultaneous torment and rapture.

A brief absence and Kurosaki is back with yet another tool.

“I know you’re at your limit,” he preempts as he unhooks Uryuu’s numbing ankles and sets them on the bed. “This is the last toy, I swear.”

“Coming up on the end of phase two,” agrees Abarai.

Rather than showing it to him right away as with everything else, Kurosaki wraps his knees tightly together and reinserts the gag from before. Trepidation tingles down the back of Uryuu’s neck. Being bound into a stiff line with speech denied can’t be a positive sign. Kurosaki brackets him on all-fours and finally brings the last toy into view. It is a dildo, like the one Kurosaki still has inside him, but this one is different.

“This should go in smoothly now thanks to those beads. See the end? It has a special shape to reach a certain spot.”

He wants to say that really isn’t necessary. If he has to go through another prostate massage, Uryuu will surely die choking on his own moans. Regardless, he is rolled to rest on his belly. The first touch of it to his damp opening elicits a full-body twitch. Kurosaki soothes him with calm words and a slow palm caressing along the plane of his back.

Uryuu chomps into the rubber gag as the ringed dildo is worked in all the way to its beveled base. Notably long instead of wide, it easily reaches the bundle of nerves it is designed to target. A halting exhale escapes as Uryuu’s eyes roll at the unmitigated pleasure. Kurosaki spins him back over and gives him a moment to gather what he can of his wits. He raises his hand to reveal a small rectangular object.

Puzzled at what it might be and too frazzled to care much, Uryuu focuses on slowing his erratic heart to lessen the drug’s persistent sway over him. It seems to be working. Although the more that chemical conflagration withers, the greater the ache of his neglected erection grows. His concentration is broken as Kurosaki uses his body weight to firmly root Uryuu in place.

“What’re you waitin’ for, Ichigo?”

No answer is forthcoming. The thing he is holding rotates toward him and Uryuu sees a short row of three buttons. His eyebrows shoot up as he rails against Kurosaki, complaining furiously through the gag. His attack ceases as the first button is pressed. An embarrassing, keening moan echoes around the room. On some level, Uryuu is grateful for Kurosaki’s foresight to hold him steady as the vibrator expertly supersedes his higher brain functions and he flops like a delirious fish.

The second button is swiftly activated.

Uryuu blacks out for a few seconds. Kurosaki revives him with a couple of light taps to his cheek.

“Stay with me. We’re so close, Ishida, just a little longer. You’re doing so well.”

A drop of sweat rolling down Kurosaki’s neck draws his eyes. The flex of his chest as he reaches lower has Uryuu glancing down in time to see the white plug being gingerly extracted. An impressive puddle of precome splashes out onto his stomach and Uryuu shivers from even this slight relief. Kurosaki hisses his name, eyebrows bunching like witnessing this physically hurts him.

He pulls Uryuu upright to fold into a kneel at the far end of the bed, facing Abarai in the chair. In this position, his cheeks pressing together have him constricting around the jack-hammering dildo. It rams against his prostate with sinister precision and his muffled moans dip lower in a continuous ululation. Ever more blood drains from his dizzy brain to join the majority below. Precome dribbles generously from his swollen dick to darken the sheet in a spreading spot.

The warm press of flesh to his back and thighs bracketing his ass tells him Kurosaki is sidling up behind him. His arms wrap around Uryuu, one to support his chest and the other to ghost over his length. The touch has him arching against Kurosaki with a sharp gasp. Each ardent beat of his heart is reflected in the persistent thrumming of his rigid flesh. Kurosaki’s lips touch Uryuu’s ear right before his voice follows.

“I want to let you come. Are you ready for it? It’s gonna feel so good.” The gag is pulled away and Kurosaki lovingly wipes a bit of drool from his slackened mouth. Uryuu vaguely rasps something in the affirmative. “First, I have to ask—No, I’m begging, Ishida. Can I fuck you? Will you let me? Would you let Renji?”

Although he starts to say yes, both of those options sound quite nice, Kurosaki uses that moment to dive into the third and most powerful cycle on the remote before tossing it to the floor. He cries out as his vision flashes white and every muscle in his body contracts at once. Abarai rises from his chair and leaves his hakama behind. He sinks to the floor in front of Uryuu and kisses across his heaving torso while dragging rough hands down his sides. The heat of his mouth enfolds Uryuu’s cock without warning.

Between the vibrator on high-speed and Abarai’s _very_ experienced oral technique, Uryuu doesn’t stand a chance. Even though it takes everything he has to draw breath, they keep him like this for several minutes. With two of Kurosaki’s fingers rubbing over Uryuu’s dancing tongue, he can’t beg. He can’t tell them how badly he needs to empty his overloaded sac into Abarai’s swallowing throat. Uryuu mindlessly thrusts up in staccato bursts that Abarai loosens his jaw to allow. But every primal pump of his hips only buries the dildo deeper into his ass, solidly shoving at his abused button. His eyes water from the electric intensity of it.

Kurosaki starts twisting the vibrator, fiercely pistoning it in and out with a cacophony of squelching sounds accompanied by Uryuu’s pitiable whines. He accidentally bites down on Kurosaki’s fingers and receives a dragging bite to the back of his neck in return. It signals something primitive inside him that urges submission. The result is a slump of his spine to drop his head on Kurosaki’s shoulder and expose his neck for the scrape of blunt teeth.

Kurosaki is a dark angel, a white knight, and Uryuu’s personal savior all in one the instant he reaches down to release the ring harnessing him. The second orgasm is a hundred times as massive as the first. It hits him like a punch to his stomach and a rush of heroin to his heart. Acutely, he feels his balls contracting over and over in a cascading torrent of bliss. Both men coax him through it. Kurosaki kisses along his freshly bruised neck and rubs lightly at his nipples while Abarai laves at the head of his spasming erection and gently massages his sac.

But with the ebb of his arousal, the unrelenting vibrator quickly becomes far too much for him. He breathlessly asks them to remove it and Kurosaki hastily does so, tossing it to the carpet next to the remote. It continues to shake and flail in an energetic frenzy that has Uryuu marveling he survived it at all. His ass is still tingling and sensitized from its buzzing devastation. Just the memory is enough to wring out one more fat drop of fluid from him.

They guide him to lie back on the bed to scatter light kisses and touches across his trembling body. Kurosaki unknots all his bindings, freeing him entirely. Now that the imminent implosion has passed, they ask him again in soft whispers. Is it okay? Does Uryuu still want to do it? Kurosaki nudges his hard-on against Uryuu’s thigh to showcase his desire. It’s just for Uryuu, he says. No one else makes him crazy like this.

“Yes, I want it,” he decides. His hands reach out, one for each man, and encourage them closer. Uryuu repeats with a stronger voice, “I want you to.”

So Kurosaki lies flat on the bed and Abarai helps Uryuu straddle him. He is too weak to hold himself upright at first, but he manages to hold his hands steady long enough to line Kurosaki’s cock up with his entrance. Nerves alight from recent activity, he feels every ridge and contour as he slowly sinks down. Kurosaki’s fingers dig in where they hold onto his thighs.

“Go easy for now,” advises Abarai as he returns to his chair.

Uryuu is left on his own to prop against Kurosaki’s flexing abs for stability. He can only manage small shifts in position for a time, not even real thrusts, but Kurosaki is patient. The strained sips of air he takes tell Uryuu everything he needs to know about what his body is doing to the man. Despite already coming twice, Kurosaki is ruthlessly fighting a third with a silicon rod up his ass and Uryuu’s unfairly tight heat hugging him.

The jittery afterimage of such a monstrous orgasm is slow to recede, and Uryuu can’t bring himself to rush. He is too enraptured by the way Kurosaki watches him like nothing else exists but this moment. Victorious and grateful. As if sinking into Uryuu has always been his secret lifelong ambition. Rivulets of sweat collect in the hollow of his collar bone and Uryuu trails a finger through it to tickle down the center of his chest. Kurosaki arches and shuts his eyes.

“Not yet, Kurosaki,” he murmurs, leaning forward to touch the side of his face. “I’ll tell you when you can come, but not yet. Understand?”

“Y-yes,” is the hoarse reply.

His gaze finds Uryuu’s, enhanced with an added layer of determination. That look says that whatever Uryuu asks, Kurosaki will give it if he is able. The thought that what Kurosaki is doing _for_ rather than _to_ him tonight is not something most friends could muster. He is subjecting himself to Soul Society’s punishment just as much as Uryuu in order to spare him from something undoubtedly crueler. Could Uryuu have done the same?

Swimming in inhibition-obliterating endorphins, he latches onto a crazy notion.

“While I am briefly mentally-stable, I want to thank you for doing this for me,” he says in a measured tone so Kurosaki can comprehend past the pleasure. “This can’t be easy for you, either.”

“Mn,” is all the acknowledgment he can manage.

“That said, I must ask: would you do the same for Inoue-san?” Brown eyes flare and Uryuu chooses that moment to squeeze around the man. His grip tightens on Uryuu’s thighs as he huffs a startled groan. “Could you screw her slow and sensual like this? Look into her eyes with such adulation? I need to know, Kurosaki. Would you be her fucking hero, too?”

When he doesn’t answer right away, Uryuu triples the leisurely pace to start slamming down on him. Get it over with because he would rather not invest in this if he is reading things wrong. Except Kurosaki doesn’t use it as an excuse to let go like he has to want. By now, he must need it so much it hurts; Uryuu would know. Yet, Kurosaki doesn’t moan in relief and explode deep inside Uryuu.

He gets pissed-off.

A furious scrunch of his brow is the only warning Uryuu has before he gets thrown sideways. Kurosaki climbs on top and flings his legs aside to shove back into him. They both gasp from the rough resurgence of pleasure. Uryuu’s half-hardness starts eagerly filling into a full erection. Kurosaki pulls out until just the head is nestled within before pounding home in a brutal jab. Uryuu constricts and wraps his legs around him on instinct.

“Fuck you,” snaps Kurosaki between chastising nips to his ear and jaw line. “How can you even say those things? What kind of monster do you think I am?”

“So, if it takes a monster to do this to her...” he erratically pants as Kurosaki maintains this battering ram technique. “What does that make you now, _playing_ with me?”

“An idiot!”

The condemnation is oddly vehement and he sobers as Kurosaki rocks to a stop above him. His expression grows bittersweet as he solemnly appraises Uryuu. The most unnerving indicator of all is how he delicately brushes a hand through Uryuu’s hair.

“Kurosaki?”

“I’m an idiot, Uryuu. A selfish bastard because I’ve wanted you like this...Wanted to touch you in ways I didn’t even understand.” The raw guilt of his confession leaves no room for doubt. The truth of it shoots straight to Uryuu’s thudding heart. “And when they told me I could be the one to ‘punish’ you in this way, a part of me was happy about it. I-I can’t even regret it after seeing you this intimately, but it’s not worth you hating me. It’s not worth losing your friendship and I wish I could take it ba—”

Having heard enough, Uryuu reaches up to hook an arm around his neck and drag him into a sentimental kiss. Kurosaki resists for a few stunned seconds before sighing into it. Uryuu is the one to resume their steady grinding.

“I would say ‘you should have told me sooner,’ but I know myself better than that,” Uryuu says against his cheek. “I would have shot you down on principle and never spoken to you again.”

“Yeah, I figured. And now?”

Uryuu looks into his clear, honest eyes and sees his apprehension. His hope. He sees the way Kurosaki quivers from the effort of holding back not just his release but also his one-sided love. Perhaps not so one-sided after all.

“Ask me again after we make it back home,” he whispers. “For now, I want to reward you for working so hard on my behalf. Come inside me, Ichigo.”

With an awed moan, he does, holding Uryuu tightly and pressing damp kisses into his shoulder. It is arousing in an entirely different way and he grits his teeth as he wills himself not to go tumbling right after Kurosaki. Especially when the man raises his head after a long moment and kisses him properly, holding his face in both broad hands. Uryuu can’t bring himself to break it but he has to reach a hand between them to cinch around his wayward dick.

Kurosaki reluctantly disengages, smiling to note Uryuu’s rekindled situation. He reaches for the handy ring to restrain him once again. Uryuu shifts uncomfortably, wondering how many more times he can go through this before he loses something he won’t be able to get back. Offering him more water before chugging the remainder, Kurosaki tosses a dark look to Abarai.

“Ready for the third act?” he asks and saunters toward them. “You sure you’re up for it, Ishida?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not if you ever want to leave this room.”

“Then I’m up for it.”

“Good. See this?” Abarai wraps a hand around the base of his heavy erection, wider and more curved than Kurosaki’s. “I’m gonna put this up your narrow ass, Ishida. If you thought we were making you scream before...Better get your lungs ready to really sing.”

Then Kurosaki leans across his lap to slowly pull the dildo out of himself with a relieved grunt. He smirks at Uryuu’s dumbfounded expression.

“Bet you wondered why Renji put this in, huh? It’s your turn to fuck me. And I’ve been practicing these little exercises so I can clamp down on you like a god damn _vice_. How’s that sound?”

Sounds like Uryuu is going to completely lose his shit. If they’re going to go at him at the same time with those twin gleams of perverted glee, he won’t survive. His legs start to close as he inches away, but they won’t let him go far. Kurosaki grabs his wrists and Abarai lifts his ankles to expose his ass.

“Hold still or we’ll have to tie you back up,” threatens Abarai as he dips closer. “Just checking that you’re not injured here...But it looks like Ichigo did a damn good job preparing you.”

“Are you sore?”

“A little,” he hesitantly answers Kurosaki when a prodding finger brushes against raw flesh. Considering how many objects he has had used in and on him in the past couple of hours, he is astonished to have sustained so little irritation. “I-I don’t know if I can...since Abarai is sort of...”

“Well, lucky for you we have a quick-fix for that.” Rustling through the cursed box of implements, Abarai returns with a metal tin that he opens to reveal a special salve. “Grab his legs, Ichigo.”

As instructed, Kurosaki tugs at the backs of his knees to keep them clear as Abarai liberally wipes a gob of the sticky stuff all over his privates. It itches voraciously on contact and he squirms at the sensation. Of course Abarai has some fun with it, grinning as he pumps Uryuu’s cock in a tight fist while thrusting coated fingers into his burning hole. He doesn’t stop until Uryuu starts hissing curses past clenched teeth.

The aggressive feeling passes as his skin heals the abrasions at an accelerated rate. Even the perpetual ache in his balls and the sting of his slit recedes until only sweet arousal remains. He exhales a throaty moan once before he can think to smother it.

“I guess that means it worked,” Kurosaki snickers. “Did you get that from Ikkaku?”

“Maybe. Want some to take home for next time?”

“You read my mind.”

“If you two are finished laughing at my expense, do you mind getting on with it already?”

“No can do, Ishida. See, one of the side-effects of this miracle jelly is that it heals _too_ well. Your little nub here is mostly closed up again and Ichigo is gonna have to work you back open. Preferably with that handy vibrator that made you squeal so beautifully the first time.”

“Not that,” he gasps even as his erection jolts at the memory. “Why can’t we use the beads instead?”

“If you don’t wanna be split in half when I shove my dick between your pert cheeks, you’ll let us use the dildo.”

“But—”

“While he’s takin’ care of that, how about you show me a bit of what you did for Ichigo earlier, hm? That quick tongue is good for something other than bitchin’, right?”

Uryuu doesn’t have time to think up an escape as Kurosaki crawls between his legs and Abarai shoves his shoulders to the mattress. He puts weight on his grip around Uryuu’s forearms to hold him there. With the arch of his neck on the edge of the bed, his head hangs upside down to view that looming member from a new angle. It bumps against his lips but Uryuu isn’t quite ready to let the massive thing in.

Until Kurosaki swallows him down as he works the shivering knob of the dildo into him.

Mouth opening on a startled groan, he feels Abarai’s cock sliding in to tap his tongue. He laps at it instinctually. The salty tang dredges up residual excitement from doing this with Kurosaki. Uryuu takes more of it, falling into a sultry pattern of suck-and-lick that did the job before. The impressive girth doesn’t leave much room for anything fancy, but Abarai doesn’t seem to notice. Soon any intention to blow him properly go out the door as Kurosaki gets creative with the vibrator.

He starts twisting it on the recurrent slide like before, trying for different angles that make Uryuu hum appreciatively against Abarai’s heated flesh. His lips cinch around the helmet so his tongue can slickly pet over and over and over it. Abarai’s fingers tighten on his arms. Kurosaki makes quick progress stretching him enough to fully seat the toy and rev it up to high speed.

Uryuu’s back tenses like a bow at the onslaught, dislodging Abarai with a loud smack and a heavy bounce. He helplessly gasps to feel Kurosaki’s jumping dildo fucking him with abandon. A small concession is shown as he releases Uryuu’s cock from his flicking tongue, but he abruptly transfers the attention to his plump balls instead. His pleading whimpers are muffled by Abarai stubbornly pushing back in to nudge insistently at his throat.

There is something so fiendishly erotic about being forced to take it from both ends like this that simply fries Uryuu’s brain. It is a transcendent drive whispering to the deepest parts of him. His entire world is sex and he never wants to leave. Whatever kinky thing they could suggest, Uryuu wants them to do it and more.

Or it could just be the perpetually delayed orgasm talking.

“He’s ready, Renji.”

Abarai pulls out of him with a final slurp as Kurosaki does the same.

“So am I. Ready to have the best sex of your life, Ishida?”

“Please,” he blurts so fast both men pause to watch him closely, “Please, Abarai, Ichigo. _Fuck_ me. I need to feel—Need you to—”

“Okay, it’s okay,” Kurosaki is murmuring, picking him up to fold into a comforting embrace. “Whatever you need, Uryuu. No more teasing.”

They work together to guide him into a kneel on the edge of the mattress with Abarai standing on the floor behind and Kurosaki perched in front. Too lightheaded and weak to support himself, their firm hands hold him in place. Uryuu jerks to feel a hot shaft wedge between his spread cheeks, but Kurosaki’s skilled kiss is just distracting enough to compensate for the shock. Abarai holds his hips steady as he carefully breaches Uryuu with smooth micro-thrusts. He gets halfway in and pauses to allow adjustment.

Kurosaki trails soothing fingertips along Uryuu’s skin as his kiss turns languid. It is calming in spite of the stress of accommodating Abarai into his narrow entrance. With the two of them working in tandem, it doesn’t take long for Uryuu to start enjoying it immensely. Abarai squeezes in the final inch with a hearty groan and gratefully caresses Uryuu’s taut abs.

“Your turn,” he rumbles to Kurosaki. “On your back.”

“Wait, I need...a few seconds...”

“Longer we wait, the higher-strung you’ll be, Ishida.”

The placid words contradict Kurosaki’s racing pulse as he shifts to lie on the bed, pillow under his lower back and knees near his sides. Abarai takes hold of Uryuu’s weeping dick and lewdly rubs it against Kurosaki’s twitching hole. He bites a lip and looks into Uryuu’s eyes with evident eagerness. They advise him to prop his arms on the bed as he drapes over Kurosaki’s long body and starts to enter him, the added momentum of Abarai behind him making it go faster.

Not even a full second passes before Uryuu is shouting out his delight. His frame quakes and his tongue wets at the insane feeling of both Kurosaki’s muscles fluttering around him and the fullness of Abarai inside him. Abarai moves the tiniest bit to create amazing friction and Uryuu shuts his eyes on a quiet sob. Although both men must be roiling with the desire to move, they considerately wait for him. Primarily because if they didn’t, Uryuu would absolutely eviscerate them afterward.

Uryuu forces his muscles to relax as much as possible before giving the sign to continue. They start out slow, Abarai rocking steadily as Kurosaki adjusts around him. Just as Uryuu starts to get used to it, they begin railing at him in earnest. Kurosaki clamps down and Abarai pistons in and out. Hard and fast, grunting with the athletic effort. Uryuu wails with the brutal shift as his skin catches fire.

He begs, gasps, moans as his hands clench in the sheets and his brain leaks from his ears. Abarai’s big hands grip tightly to his sides to keep him still so he can get the most out of each thrust. It hits Uryuu’s prostate once of every three shots. Meanwhile, Kurosaki is demonstrating his newly learned vice technique as he energetically bounces on Uryuu’s aching dick. They work on him with an uncanny synchronization, completely ignoring his wanton pleas.

This goes on for so long that Uryuu loses track of time. Kurosaki comes across his belly with a low growl, untouched and staring into his eyes. Uryuu sees every moment of it, feels the pull of it in the sheath of Kurosaki’s ass. Uryuu needs release more than another breath. He starts to struggle, demanding completion, begging for an end. Abarai ties his hands back up and reinserts the ball gag to keep him under control.

Pulling off, Kurosaki shifts out from under him. Pinned to Abarai’s chest even as the man keeps fucking him, Uryuu communicates with his eyes. But Kurosaki only shifts to all-fours in front of him so the motion of Abarai’s thrusts can do most of the work. The man immediately reaches around Uryuu to guide him back inside Kurosaki. Once again, they find a synchronicity to slam into him at the same time.

It is too much. He can’t gather the wits to fight his bindings, much less break free of these two ravenous warriors. Utterly trapped and helpless, Uryuu takes his punishment like a good boy because he has no choice. They seem to sense his resignation, pounding harder with renewed vigor. What feels like hours later, Kurosaki reaches between his legs to stroke himself through another orgasm that steals Uryuu’s breath through his over-stimulated cock.

Uryuu tenses so hard that it translates to Abarai’s stuttering hips, neat pace forgotten. He bites into Uryuu’s shoulder and splashes hot release deep inside of him with a few more rough jabs that slap Uryuu’s clenched ass. Abarai pulls out with a long groan and a lick to the stinging bruise on his shoulder. Kurosaki slips off, allowing Uryuu’s erection to spring up and smack against his belly.

Abarai shoves the vibrator back inside, full-blast, jerking it in and out in a blur of motion, as Kurosaki reaches down to stroke him just as quickly. Every exhale is a desperate cry. Uryuu’s vision narrows and his head feels too light because there is no blood left for his brain. Consciousness threatens to flee him.

“Now, Ichigo.”

Kurosaki reaches down to free him as Abarai pulls out the gag. Blinding white becomes streaks of fuzzy colors. It feels like an inferno and a blizzard at the same time. His blood rushes to reposition itself as his mind floods with too many chemicals. He can’t sense his own skin anymore and he doesn’t even care. Uryuu’s entire body bucks so that both men have to hold him still or they will all hit the floor in a jumble.

Just when Uryuu thinks maybe he’ll make it through intact, darkness claims him.

“Are you sure it’s okay? He’s been out for hours...”

“It might’ve been too much for him to handle all at once. He said it was his first time, didn’t he?”

“Shit, you’re right, Renji. We should’ve taken it slow...”

“I wouldn’t feel too bad for ‘im. Lucky bastard got to lose it with a couple of studs like us, after all.”

“Don’t joke, it’s not funny!”

Uryuu groans quietly as feeling returned to his well-used body upon waking. He is sore in strange places but unusually relaxed, given the circumstances. Hearing the noise, both men fall silent. Kurosaki walks over and hovers into view above him. He starts to ask if Uryuu is all right, but the intensified furrow of Kurosaki’s brow summons a breathy chuckle that interrupts his question.

“If you don’t stop frowning all the time you’ll get wrinkles, Kurosaki,” he teases, raising a finger to tap at the middle of his forehead. “You’re too handsome for wrinkles.”

At a loss, the man blinks dumbly at Uryuu and looks to the other Shinigami for help. “Renji, I...I think we broke him.”

“Nah, he’s still drunk on the feel-good vibes we gave ‘im. That’s my cue to get outta here while I can. You know what to do, Ichigo.”

“No, wait!”

The door slams and locks behind him, leaving the two of them alone in the faux-hotel room. Kurosaki bangs on the door and demands to talk to someone from squad four. Uryuu is too busy struggling to sit up to tell him not to bother because the room is soundproof, and he’s fine anyway. Everything is fine, actually. He scoots to lean against the head rest and pulls the warm blanket closer to his naked body. Lifting it to peek beneath, Uryuu notes that he has been carefully cleaned of any residue from their activities.

“Kurosaki, come here.”

“Fucking stupid Renji running out like that,” he grits out and kicks the door a couple of times. “Irresponsible jerk!”

“Kurosaki.”

“I _told_ him there was something wrong, but did he listen? No.”

“Kurosaki, calm down.”

“I’m gonna murder that idiot next time I see him!”

“Ichigo!” he shouts, snickering at the startled expression he whips around to show Uryuu. “Would you be so kind as to stop ranting for just a moment and come over here since I can’t seem to muster the strength to go to you?”

With a low curse, he does as requested and sits on the bed beside him. “I’m sorry, Uryuu. It’s my fault you’re—”

“Stop apologizing. Do I look angry or injured?”

“No, but—”

“The way I understand it, Seireitei decreed I was to undergo some manner of punishment prior to returning home, and that my limited options mostly included torture. Is this correct?”

“Yeah...”

“Is it also true that your involvement on my behalf directly resulted in my evasion of said torture in lieu of kinky sex with you?”

“Uh...”

Hooking an arm around Kurosaki’s neck to pull him in close, Uryuu pushes a hand through his hair and murmurs against his ear, “How much time do we have left?”

“Y-your sentence was for two weeks,” he stammers in shock at this forward behavior, “At least three sessions per day. I asked if you’d be a sex-craving maniac by the time it was over but no one would answer me...”

“It’s a little too late to worry about that,” whispers Uryuu with a nip to his lobe. “Don’t you think? Besides, if I’m going Nympho, I’m taking you with me.”

He smirks. Kurosaki gasps as he is shoved to lie down with Uryuu straddling him. A hungry kiss is stolen and he already feels himself warming in anticipation. The way Kurosaki moans and instinctively grasps his hips to bring him closer only speeds up the process. Uryuu reaches down to touch him and their mouths smack apart in favor of taking heavier breaths.

“Oh, _fuck_ , we really did break you,” huffs Kurosaki. His hips twitch up, seeking contact with Uryuu’s. “Will you hate me after all this is over?”

“No. As long as you don’t regret this later, I won’t either.”

“I won’t,” Kurosaki passionately vows with eyes intent on his, “Never.”

“Then quit asking stupid questions and grab that damned box of tricks.”


End file.
